Mighty Ducks 1. Part I

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Birds of a Feather' is © 2005-2007 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2007 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** R (V, L)

**Chapter Summary: **Duke struggles to get the hang of his rather impromptu fathering role for a troubled – but gifted, both on the ice and off – human teenager.

_A Very Special Thanks to Dropzone, Pigeon and Audobon, for giving me back my muse!_

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**Birds of a Feather  
Part I**

_3:03AM_

"Chris, where's the emerald?"

"I'm tellin' ya, I DON'T HAVE IT!" Christina stomped away from Wildwing's and Duke's accusing expressions and stared angrily at the blank screen of Drake One.

"Somebody's got it, and it ain't here."

The fifteen-year-old took a deep breath before answering, mostly to ensure her voice wouldn't waver.

"You _said_ you _trusted_ me."

Duke sighed. "Chris... Look, I know the klepto thing is hard an' all, but we can't help ya get over it unless you're willin' to cooperate."

She didn't turn around. "I swear to God, I don't. have it."

Wildwing frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Christina, if we don't return the Quetzal Emerald before the museum opens, the authorities are gonna get into this mess, too, and there's only so much we can do to protect you after that."

"I don't _have_ the damn rock, Wildwing."

"Christina—"

The human girl finally snapped, whirling around to face them, eyes blazing. "GOD DAMN IT, I DON'T HAVE THE DAMN THING, WILDWING! JESUS CHRIST, WHADDYA WANT FROM ME? YA WANNA STRIP SEARCH ME OR SOMETHING? FINE! GO AHEAD! JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY!"

Furious beyond the point of clear thinking, she tore off her jean coat and threw it aside, then grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt. She had it halfway up before Duke managed to grab her hands and stop her.

"That's _ENOUGH_, Christina! Just _calm_ down!"

She fought him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry: she kicked and screamed and, at one opportune moment, bit down hard enough on Duke's hand to make _him_ scream.

"_AUGH!_" He let her go. "Just what the _HELL_ is wrong with you today?"

For a few moments, it became a face off between the two thieves, the older reformed and the younger addicted – the latter of which had to spit out a few small, gray, downy feathers. Christina was panting angrily, her glare shifting every few seconds between her by-proxy father figure and her team captain. She was just plain _pissed_. There was no two words about it.

"Christina, sit down." Wildwing's remarkably calm voice broke into her thoughts.

"No."

His tone darkened slightly. "That's an order, Palmetto."

Chris squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deep; Wing had pulled out the big guns. A direct order. Using her last name.

Well shit.

"Fine." She stalked over to the nearest chair and dropped into it, staring dismally at her battle-gear boots. She'd been given the boots nearly four weeks ago, and there wasn't a scuff on them. And talk about comfortable. They weren't even as heavy as they looked. Chris found herself marveling, not for the first time, at Puckworld technology. Even at its simplest, it was amazing.

"_What_ was that, Chris?" Wildwing interrupted her thoughts again.

Christina ground her teeth. "_Yes, sir_," she corrected herself.

"Thank you."

She just grunted slightly to acknowledge him. He didn't comment on it, but instead leaned against Drake One's control panel and watched her for a few minutes. She finally spoke up, just to break the silence.

"I don't have it, Wing. I swear. I _don't _have it."

"Look me in the eyes when you say that."

Christina looked up just in time to watch Wildwing remove his mask, revealing his face and transforming his eyes from an almost creepy glowing red to a soft brown. He had rather lovely eyes, Chris noted irrelevantly. With another deep breath to keep her emotions in check, she met his gaze with her own. Even though she was telling the truth, it was a hard thing to do. Wing was a really nice guy and fun to be around most of the time, but in leader mode, he could be incredibly intimidating.

"Wildwing, I swear. I don't have the emerald. I didn't take it, an' I don't know where it is. I _swear_."

Wildwing was silent for a long time, holding her gaze and considering her words. Finally, he nodded.

"All right. I believe you."

Chris let out a breath and nodded in return. "Thank you. ...Uh..." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Yes?"

"S-Sorry 'bout that whole almost flashin' ya thing. Um... You won't... tell anyone about that, will ya?"

He chuckled. "Nah. Forget it. Just... work on that temper, okay?"

Chris grinned, looking distinctly relieved. "Deal."

Wildwing looked up at Duke. "You're being awfully quiet all of a sudden."

"Yeah... listen, Wing, could I talk to Chris for a few minutes? Y'know, alone?"

Wildwing appeared curious, as if he wanted to ask something, but in the end he simply nodded. "Sure, Duke. I'm gonna wake up the others and keep trying to find that jewel."

Duke nodded, and Wildwing left the room. Christina swiveled her chair around to face Duke, and furrowed her eyebrows at his critical expression.

"..._What_?"

"Chris..." Duke crossed his arms over his chest and gazed down at her thoughtfully. "Chris, where is it? Look, I won't even tell Wing you had it if ya just hand it over now. I'll just tell him I found it, y'know, under a console or somethin'."

She stared at him. When his words finally sunk in, she shook her head incredulously. "You—You don't believe me! E-Even after all that, you still don't believe me! H-How... Of all people..." She stood and took a few steps away from him, retrieving her coat and then her Duck-Saber – a gift from Duke on a much better day than this was turning into – which had clattered several feet away when she'd thrown her fit.

Duke sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Chris, I _want_ to believe you sweet'eart, I do. I just... The emerald was here, and now it ain't. I mean, you tryin' to tell me it just grew wings an' flew away?"

"I'm _tellin' _you I don't know _what_ the hell happened to it!" She pulled her coat on and stowed her saber safely back in an inner pocket.

"Chris, the emerald was _here_. Then you were alone – in _here_. An' now the emerald's gone."

"Bu—I was in here for all o', like, thirty seconds! All I did was come in from the rink an' walk across t'go to my room! That's _IT!_"

"Chris—"

She cut him off, putting her hands up in front of her shoulders, palms out in faux surrender, and huffed and angry growl. "Y'know what? Fuck you." She turned around and started toward the door. When Duke responded, his voice was low and held an odd sort of protective threat that Christina found rather confusing.

"Watch your beak, kid," he snapped, and Christina had to stifle the urge to snicker at the very Duck-specific phrase, only the most recent of many. She'd gotten into the habit of mentally translating them into 'human' just to save herself the trouble of correcting everybody constantly. Besides, she didn't want to embarrass anyone. The smirk, however, faded off her face as Duke continued.

"An' get back here. I'm not done with you."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, but when she did, she was making a very rude single-digit gesture – with both hands.

"_FUCK! YOU!_" she shouted, then turned and ran for the door.

She never got there.

Having skillfully wrapped the cable around her ankles, Duke tugged sharply on his grappling hook and pulled Christina clear off her feet. She landed hard, with an audible 'oof', and lay there wheezing as Duke approached her, reeling in the cable as he walked.

"I _said_, 'I'm not finished with you yet'."

"And I—" she coughed and started over, "I said 'fuck you'."

Duke frowned at her as he knelt to untangle her legs. "I've had about enough of this attitude o' yours for one day."

The second her legs were free, she kicked his arm away and scrambled to escape. Stowing his saber back on his shoulder, he grabbed her by the ankles and simply dragged her back to the chair she'd vacated moments before. She struggled and kicked the whole way, but he refused to let go.

"You fuckin' _bastard_! Let me go! _WILDWING!_" Her hand shot to her wrist – to her disbelief, her com was gone. "You son of a _BITCH!_ Give that _back_! Let me _go_, you fuckin' lunatic! _WILDWING!_" She felt stupid calling out to Wildwing, like a helpless little kid, but Duke was truly freaking her out, and she didn't know what else to do – Duke was older, stronger, and a much better fighter, and it was pretty obvious that she was going nowhere fast. Finally, she just screamed as loud as she could.

Duke grabbed the lapels of her coat in one hand and hauled her to her feet, clapping his other hand over her mouth.

"That's _enough!_" He slowly took his hand away from her mouth, and she gave him the dirtiest look she could come up with.

"Go to hell," she spat.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, looking utterly defeated. "Fine. I didn't want to do this, y'know. I don't wanna be th' bad guy. I _prefer_ bein' your friend. But _damn_ it, one way or another, I am _goin' _t'get through to you."

She stared at him. "What the hell are you talkin' abou—whoa!"

He dropped into the chair and pulled her down with him. Too startled to struggle much, she suddenly found herself bent over his lap, her head on one side of his legs and her backside on the other. One of his hands kept her arms pinned firmly behind her back, and her eyes widened when she realized the implications of this incredibly awkward position. Her mind raced for an escape route as Duke pulled her leather coat out of the way.

"D-D-Duke, n-now wait a minute, I-I—!"

"Hold still." She heard a familiar electronic hiss as he switched on the blade of his saber.

Oh, _hell_, _this_ was gonna _hurt_.

"D-D-Duke, now c'mon, man, y-ya can't do this! I-I mean, for God's sake, I-I'm fifteen years old! You-You can't—"

Her only answer came in the form of the whistle of his saber as it swung through the air.

She'd been right.

It did hurt.

A lot.

And it hurt nine more times before he finally stopped. It was only the flat of the sword, of course, but the blade had a lot less give than a hand, or even a belt would. And it _stung_.

It was a couple of minutes after he'd stopped striking before he actually let go of her, and she pushed up and away from him, scrambling out of reach and just barely avoiding landing on her backside when she tripped and fell. She reflexively wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, but otherwise could only stare at him in shock.

The strange part was, he _looked_ almost as bad as she _felt_.

"You brought it on yourself, Chris." She blinked at him. Had his voice cracked? _Duke L'Orange's_ voice had _cracked_?

Well, her own voice wasn't exactly stable, but that had a lot to do with the yelps of pain she hadn't managed to contain, and the tears that were still rolling down her cheeks. _God_, it _hurt_.

"Th-that wasn't fair. I-I don't have the emerald. I _don't _have it! _Damn it_, why won't you _believe_ me?" She scrubbed harshly at her eyes with her fist, trying to stop the tears that didn't seem to _want_ to end. She didn't cry often, but once she started, it took _forever_ for her to stop. There were some things about being a girl that really sucked.

Duke watched her as she climbed unsteadily to her feet.

"That wasn't about the emerald."

Chris scoffed. "Ch'yeah, right."

"It _wasn't_." He stood and came toward her. "It was about your _attitude_, an' your _disrespect_. We made a deal when we took you in, Chris. You follow th' _same_ rules Nosedive has t'follow. That _includes_ doin' what you're told an' bein' respectful."

"Why should I have _any_ respect for you? You _said_ you trusted me, but _that_ was obviously a lie. An' then you _hit_ me for somethin' I didn't even _do_. Why should I listen t'you at _all_?"

Duke narrowed his eyes slightly. "There's a difference between just _hittin'_ someone an' disciplinin' them, Chris. An' you know it."

It was the human's turn to cross her arms over her chest. "Bullshit."

"Stop swearin'."

"Why should I?"

"Well, for _one_ thing, I _told_ you to. For another, you're too good a kid t'be usin' that kinda language."

She snorted. "I'm a middle-school dropout and a thief."

He laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Who's makin' a lot a progress in both areas, these days." His smile quickly faded at the expression that took over Christina's face.

"Don't touch me."

Duke quickly lifted his hand, his eyes widening. "Chris, kid, look, I'm only tryin' to—"

"Don't _ever_ touch me again."

He was too stunned by her utterly cold order to say anything else, and he watched helplessly as she strode away from him and through the door that would take her up to the rink, her black coat swishing dramatically about her knees.

"I'm goin' out."

That snapped Duke out of his shock. "Now, hold it, it's late, you ain't—"

But the door slid shut behind her, and a heartbeat later, Duke heard the soft hum of the elevator. With a sigh, he decided to let her go. She needed to be alone; he could understand that.

What he couldn't understand was her reaction when he'd touched her. Was she really so freaked out by what he'd done that she wanted nothing to do with him now? Frowning, he headed toward the opposite door. He was tired, and at the moment, he felt a lot older than he really was. And anyhow, he told himself, she was freaked out, sure, but she'd be fine by morning. She was a tough kid. Hell, she wouldn't have ended up on the team in the first place if she hadn't thrown herself into the middle of a puck laser free-for-all to protect a slightly wounded but very dazed Nosedive. That took guts, especially for a human with no formal training. She could take care of herself.

She'd be fine.

With that thought, Duke went to bed, too tired to even care if his teammates found the missing jewel or not.


	2. Part II

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Birds of a Feather' is © 2005-2007 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2007 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** R (V, L)

**Chapter Summary: **Chris goes for a walk, hoping it will make her feel better.

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**Birds of a Feather  
Part II**

_9:45AM__, present_

The next morning at breakfast, Duke nursed a black coffee and read the paper like he did every day. Most of the team was here, or had been here already.

Except Chris.

In fact, nobody had seen her all morning, and it was getting a bit late for sleeping. Even _Nosedive_ was up and about. Swallowing a nervous flutter in his chest, Duke at last rose and headed for Christina's room, and knocked on the door.

" 'Ey, Christina! You awake yet?"

He waited a few moments, but when he got no response, he tried again.

"Chris! Rise an' shine, kid! It's nearly ten; let's _go_!"

Still nothing. The nervous flutter returned, and he tried the control at the side of the door. It was locked.

_'Now, don't panic Duke. She's in there; she's just being a brat, that's all. She's ignoring you. Fine. Ignore this.'_

He flipped open his com and connected with hers. After a moment of nothing but static, he frowned and accessed the tracking device. Only then did he remember that he'd taken her com last night, and it was still sitting on his nightstand where he'd dropped it on his way to bed.

_'Great, Duke. You let 'er leave The Pond by herself an' with no way to contact you if somethin' happened. Genius.'_ He pounded on the door again.

"Christina, you better answer me, kid!" But of course, there was no answer. If he hadn't been so worried, he would have sighed in irritation as he keyed in his override code to unlock her door – he and Wildwing had decided when she'd first come to live with the team that it would be best to have such a code, just in case. This certainly qualified as a 'just in case'. He hit enter, and the door slid open.

"I'm comin' in whether you like it or not, kid! Chris? Answer me, damn it!" He couldn't see her from where he stood in the doorway. Couldn't hear her, either. He walked across the room and rounded the corner to the area where her bunk stood.

The bed was empty. Hadn't been slept in. Duke started to sweat.

"Christina?" He hesitantly poked his head through the bathroom door, but it too was empty. Chris simply wasn't here. This was bad. Very bad. They'd had arguments in the past, but only twice before had she actually stormed out, and she'd been back before breakfast. And she'd had her communicator with her.

It wasn't human threats that worried Duke, either. Chris had excelled with a saber from the moment she'd picked one up, and she wasn't bad at hand-to-hand either, a skill she'd picked up out of necessity on the street. Sure, she could handle herself against humans. Unfortunately, Duke realized with no small amount of dread, there was another threat now, one that was much, _much_ more dangerous.

Dragaunus.

He and his Saurian thugs, they knew who she was now, and could recognize her as easily as they recognized Duke and the other Ducks. She'd fought against the lizards more than a few times, and her saber had even connected with Siege's scaly hide at one point (a fact that surprised her most of all, if her utterly disbelieving expression at the reptile's angry howl had been any indication). So in the Saurian's eyes, she was just another hindrance to be wiped out.

She was target.

With a blink, Duke realized he'd left Chris' room and was standing in front of Drake One. The rest of the team was staring at him expectantly, and he could tell by their expressions that his own face was betraying his alarm.

" 'Ey, have any o' you seen Chris today? At all?" Five heads shook negative. Mallory stood up straight from where she'd been leaning on a control panel.

"Why? Is she missing?"

"I can't find her. She stormed out last night, she didn't have her com, an' I can't find her _any_where in the building. I don't think she came home last night, Wing."

Wildwing's eyes widened for a heartbeat before narrowing with concern. He tapped his chest, activating his battle gear, and the team followed suit.

"We've got to find her. _Now_."

_3:47AM__, seven hours ago_

Christina scowled at the pavement as she walked, her boots dropping almost silently on the concrete sidewalk. She was glad she was wearing her coat; a breeze had come in from the Pacific and had brought the temperature down considerably. The ducks often teased her, good-naturedly, about her sensitivity to cool weather, but she was always quick to point out that hey, _they_ had feathers and came from a planet that rarely saw above-freezing temperatures in the first place.

She smiled. They had their differences, sure, but all things being equal, she really liked the ducks. They were her friends, and she'd begun to think of them as family. She could have lived without Phil Pomfeather being her current legal guardian, but that was really just on paper, anyway. He had little say in her day-to-day life, excepting when she was dragged along to those stupid PR gigs.

Her newfound fame had its downfalls. Still, playing major league hockey, even if she rarely saw time on the ice, was worth it. Especially when girls half her age ran up to her begging for an autograph. She liked knowing she was a role-model.

Though it was probably a good thing that the ducks were the only ones who knew the details of her storied past. She didn't really feel much remorse for her past deeds, but that didn't mean she wanted other kids to follow her down that path.

She wandered through the Anaheim Mall – abandoned at this hour – and focused on controlling the urge to choose a lock to pick. It was funny, really. According to everything she'd read about kleptomania, she was pretty much a contradiction to its standards. They said that kleptomaniacs stole not for the monetary value of things, but for the relief that stealing brought; thieving to a klepto was like taking a hit to a druggie. They also said that the thefts were unplanned and were generally useless items of little value, things that could be easily purchased.

But for Christina, half the thrill was in the planning. Most of her thieving was petty: pick-pocketing, or palming and pocketing jewelry and other items from stores. But she'd had a few serious heists as well, and even though a part of her knew it was wrong, she was terribly proud of what she'd accomplished, especially for someone so young. And she _did_ plan for these jobs, and got euphoria from both the planning, and the knowledge that she now held something of massive value.

And to be perfectly honest with herself, she really liked the way jewels sparkled.

Since the ducks had taken her in, she'd agreed to stop stealing – she didn't need to anyway, because money was hardly a shortage when you were a member of an NHL team – but it had proved harder than she'd expected. The big stuff was easy to quit; she hadn't done much anyway, and it was a lot of work, and she didn't really have the time for it between hockey and saving the world (not-to-mention the training she'd undertaken, which took up a massive chunk of what little free time she _did_ have), anyway.

But though she'd been certain she'd be able to stop, it had proved a lot harder than she'd anticipated. Swiping wallets was almost a reflex to her, and she'd caught herself, several times, doing it without realizing it. There were other times, in stores and the like, where the pull to swipe something that caught her eye was simply too much to bear. True, a lot of the items were cheap, but not everything. More than once she'd found herself, slumped on the couch in her bedroom, staring helplessly at jewelry, electronics, and more, that she'd stolen that day.

Wildwing and Duke had forced her to return it all – all that they found out about, anyway (which was damn _near_ all because she _wanted_ to be trusted and generally confessed without much prodding, if any). Of course, these returns had occurred anonymously and carefully timed so as not to arouse suspicion of _who_ had been shopping there that day, under cover of dark and _always_ under Duke's watchful eye. It wouldn't do to have it found out _who_ had been stealing, although there had been the occasional blurb on the news or in the paper about mysterious thefts that had occurred, followed by even more puzzling returns. These headlines, however brief, did tend to win her a lot of disapproving looks from her teammates, to which she'd respond by slouching sheepishly in her seat. As a consequence of these happenings, though, she rarely got to go to a physical store to shop. The Internet had become a great friend to her – and since she didn't know a whole lot about electronics other than to crack digital safe locks and alarm codes, she couldn't steal from these online stores, either.

The Internet-only shopping had helped a lot more than she'd expected it to, and she'd been making progress. Wildwing had _finally _allowed her to return to shopping at _physical_ stores, and she'd been to the mall more frequently lately without giving in. It was a great motivator to have the pride and congratulations of her teammates when she managed to go for long periods of time without stealing. So great a motivator, in fact, that she was fully convinced that she'd just about beaten the disorder. Breaking into a grin, she stuck her tongue out at the nearest storefront, which happened to be a jewelry store she'd ripped off three times in the past.

"You don't have your hooks in me near as much as you used to, bub. _I'm_ in charge, now. So _nyah._"

She tugged the lapels of her coat around her neck as a brisk breeze came up, and frowned as the _reason_ she was out here in the first place returned to her mind.

Why didn't Duke believe her? _He_ understood the battle to stay on the straight-and-narrow, even if he'd never actual struggled with kleptomania. Or at least, she didn't think he had; he tended to be a little evasive when the subject came up of his life before the Saurian invasion. But still...

At least Wildwing believed her. His vote of confidence meant the world to her. It was funny, she mused as she walked past the silent and still superhero-statue-adorned Captain Comics, how much Wildwing's trust meant to her. He was only her elder by a couple of years, but despite her general dislike for authority, she'd accepted him as her team captain with little effort. And perhaps that was the reason she'd accepted him so easily – she had more in common with Wildwing than she did with older authority figures (like Klegghorn, for instance, who rubbed her the wrong way so badly that she had to bite her tongue every time she saw him to keep from saying something nasty to him). And Wildwing treated her like an equal; he didn't talk down to her like Klegghorn did and her former foster parents had. He was just a very likeable guy. Christina liked him, and she wanted badly to have his trust. And she couldn't help but think, at times, that were she a duck, she'd probably have a crush on him, too.

If she'd been truly honest with herself, she would have realized that she _did_ have a pretty serious crush on the Duck she affectionately referred to as 'boss'.

Chris kicked a half-empty soda can and sent it propelling across the darkened food court, spraying soda in all directions as it went. She pretended it was Duke's head.

Then she froze as she heard a noise from the direction she'd kicked the can in. The can had already stopped moving, she was sure of it. She strained her ears to hear and strove to see what had made the noise, but finally concluded that it must have been a stray cat.

Still, it left her a bit jumpy, and after a few more moments of growing unease in the dark mall, she turned on her heel and started around to the rear of Captain Comics, heading to the side entrance of the Pond a few hundred yards away. She crossed her arms over her chest, slipping her right hand into her coat and withdrawing her saber, taking comfort in the weight of it in her hand.

She was hardly one to be afraid of the dark, for all the time she'd spent in it. You couldn't be afraid of the dark when you practically lived outdoors, which she had until she'd gotten good enough at her thieving to start living in hotels. But something didn't feel right, and Chris quickened her pace as the Pond came into full view.

There was a metallic clang on the concrete behind her, and she whirled to face it, fully expecting to see a Saurian's glowing red eyes shining out of the dark.

But these eyes were white. White triangles arranged to make a very menacing expression, even if she couldn't make out the faces they belonged to in this moonless night. The nearest streetlights gave only a dull glow, and the Pond was entirely dark, so there was no help there. Swallowing her panic, she flicked her thumb over the hilt of her saber, igniting the blade. In the brief flash before the blade became solid, she made out the forms of a good half-dozen wicked-looking robots, whirring and clicking and clanging as they moved to surround her.

She didn't recognize these robots. They weren't Saurian. If anything, she'd swear they were of human design, though what humans had the technology to create them she didn't know.

She nearly sighed audibly in relief as the motion-activated lights by Captain Comic's back door finally switched on. At least now she could see, though it wasn't a lot of comfort when she realized that there were twice as many robots as she'd first thought.

_'Don't let them scare you, you've got to be strong. Remember what Wildwing said, if you let your fear paralyze you, you can't win. Besides, you kick battle-drone butt all the time, you can beat these things!'_

Her confidence growing, Chris grinned and took a few steps back, clutching her saber with both hands and preparing to strike. She couldn't run; there were too many of them, and they had her cornered. She briefly glanced past the blue-gray steel of her adversaries at the Pond, so close and yet too far to be of any help.

She had to fight.

She cocked an eyebrow at the robots and beckoned mockingly with her left hand.

"Bring it, 'bots."


	3. Part III

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Birds of a Feather' is © 2005-2007 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2007 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** R (V, L)

**Chapter Summary: **What has happened to Christina?

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**Birds of a Feather  
Part III**

_9:59AM, present_

"Uh, not to be, y'know, negative or anything, but how are we supposed to find her when she doesn't have her comuh—her comin—her, y'know, com?"

Duke flipped the hilt of his saber from one hand to the other. "I slipped a little somethin' extra into her saber before I gave it to her, just in case somethin' like this ever happened. We _should_ be able to track her. " He gave Tanya the frequency and in a matter of seconds, they had a signal. Tanya jumped out of her chair.

"There she is!"

"The old warehouse district. Figures." Wildwing started for the hangar. "Let's go, team."

_6:14AM, four hours ago_

Christina opened her eyes slowly. Her head was pounding. She didn't know where she was, but somehow, she was standing up. And she was wet.

Why the _hell_ was she wet? Her eyes finally snapped open the rest of the way. She quickly closed them again, wishing she were still unconscious.

_'This is a bad dream. Just a bad, bad, bad dream. I'm gonna open my eyes and wake up in my own cozy little bed, safe and sound at the Pond.'_

She opened her eyes again, but her surroundings hadn't changed.

_'Hockey pucks.'_ She'd tried to say it out loud, but there was a tube down her throat, and it was interfering with her voice box.

That's when she started to panic. She struggled, but found she was restrained; her ankles were locked down so that her feet were flat against the floor, her wrists were manacled above her head. And though her head itself wasn't restrained, she couldn't move it much because of the tube in her throat.

Speaking of that tube, there was good reason for it: she was underwater. She'd been locked up in some sort of glass cylinder, but that tube was full of water – or some kind of liquid, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know _what _kind it was. It stung her eyes, and tasted salty, but with a slight metallic tang that did nothing to calm her fraying nerves.

There was one other problem that made her a _hell_ of a lot more uncomfortable. She was wearing nothing but her panties and sports bra. Which were soaked.

She found herself terribly relieved that she'd opted for _black_ the last time she'd changed clothes – a good ten hours ago, now, if the faint morning light shining through the windows was any indication. And at least whoever had abducted her had left her _some_ dignity.

_'What the _hell_ is going on here? I mean, this is supposed to be _The Mighty Ducks_, not _TheX-Men_! I am _not_ freakin' Project X here!' _Swallowing her terror, Chris turned her examination fully to her surroundings beyond the cylinder.

She choked on the oxygen tube at what she saw. The water and curved surface of the cylinder distorted her view, but the person she saw in the room beyond was unmistakable. She remembered him from a file Tanya had shown her a while back.

_'Dr. Pretorius! But he's supposed to be in prison! He's a total nutso! Oh, this can _not_ be good...'_

"Ah, good, you're awake." The scientist's voice was remarkably clear despite the water, and Christina realized she was wearing some sort of waterproof earpiece. She shot him a dirty look. He merely smiled at her gleefully.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I have planned for you, hmm?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"You should be honored. You're the main ingredient in my latest project!"

_'Honored, my beak. ...Oh, geez, I've been around the ducks too long...'_

"You see," the mad scientist continued, "I've become fascinated by the duck genome. Their DNA is so very interesting. Very advanced... but I don't expect you could grasp the technical aspects of it."

Oh, she wanted to slap that insane arrogance off his face.

"And then I noticed you on the news. The only human on an all-duck team. It must really be something, being allowed to be on the roster of a professional league team, especially at your age. Though I'll bet it's terribly embarrassing spending all your time on the bench. But then, in a once in a lifetime chance, you actually got to play." Chris cringed; it wasn't a memory she liked reliving.

He clicked his tongue. "Tsk, having missed that final goal in front of so many millions of people must have been devastating for you. Your teammates must have been so very disappointed." She wanted to retort that no, they had been proud of her for just surviving and keeping them from having to forfeit the game – a worse fate than losing – but of course, she couldn't speak, so she just glared at him. Despite her teammate's reassurances, it _had _killed her to not make that goal – by a whole fourth of a second, if that – and she certainly didn't like having it thrown back in her face. Pretorius merely met her glare with a knowing smile.

"Of course, if you'd been a duck, your shot likely would have made it in time."

She couldn't help it. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued.

"Surely you've come to realize that the ducks are quite simply more advanced than we humans are. Not just in their technology, but in their very bodies. They're faster, they're stronger, they heal faster. How else do you explain your friends' ability to put pucks literally _through_ the nets? They're superior to humans in every way. My, how difficult it must be for you to keep up with them."

She wasn't sure if he could even see her hands where they were bound above her head, but she flipped him off anyway. If he saw the gesture, he ignored it. "It occurred to me, then, that who would be better for my new experiment than _you_?" He clasped his hands; Chris's eyes widened. "And now you're wondering, 'What exactly _is_ this experiment of which he speaks?' Well, that experiment, my dear, is to find out if I can successfully replace a human's DNA with _duck_ DNA. In other words..." He came right up to the glass, so that his face was only inches from hers, and smiled.

"We're going to find out if I can make a duck out of a human."

_10:08AM, present_

"Relax, Duke. I'm sure she's fine. She's just _trying_ to scare us." Mallory tried to cheer up the guilt-ridden gray drake. It wasn't working.

Wildwing glanced back at her and shook his head. "I wish I shared your optimism, Mallory. But Duke, you shouldn't be blaming yourself. Even if something _has_ happened... It's not your fault. It isn't anybody's fault."

Duke stared Wildwing right in the eyes. "You know that ain't true, Wildwing. I shouldn't've let 'er go, and I _sure_ as heck shouldn't of let her go without her communicator. If anything's happened to her..." But he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Nosedive looked over at his brother. "You don't think Dragaunus got her, do ya, bro?"

Wildwing turned back around and stared out the windshield. "I don't know. But I think she would have checked in by now if she were all right. It just doesn't seem _like_ her to stay gone this long without at least letting us know she's okay."

Mallory frowned. "We haven't known her that long, Wildwing. Maybe she decided to go back to her old life."

"It is rare that a puck resumes its original course once its path is interrupted." That sage comment won Grin a lot of baffled stares. He rolled his eyes and rephrased.

"I doubt it."

"Ya couldn't have just said that in the _first_ place, Grinster?" Nosedive shook his head, mystified. Grin just smiled.

"The homing signal is coming from there." Tanya pointed through the windshield at one of a hundred corrugated tin buildings that filled this part of town.

_8:43AM; one hour, twenty-five minutes ago_

Christina hung limply from her restraints, just barely conscious enough to note that the now blood-red water was draining from the chamber around her, and that fresh, warm water was washing over her. A few moments later, once the water had stopped running, she felt a hand lift her face and pull out the tube that had somehow managed to stay in her throat. She choked and gasped reflexively, her windpipe aching from the abuse.

Then again, her entire body absolutely throbbed, so this was hardly worth the notice.

She hadn't bothered to open her eyes, and had no plan to do so any time soon. The pain was unendurable, and she didn't have the courage to face whatever it was that had happened to her body. So instead, she simply hung there as Pretorius poked and prodded at her, surveying his work.

"Incredible. Absolutely flawless. A little rough on the patient, true, but the results! You, my dear, are without a doubt my _greatest_ achievement! At last I'll have the fame I deserve!"

He babbled on for a while longer, but she stopped paying attention. She was having a hard time understanding what he was saying anyway. She was just too tired.

Eventually, she felt hot air being blown on her, and it took her a moment to comprehend what it meant. _'Heck of a big blow-dryer...'_ she reflected numbly. Still, the drier she became, the better she felt, and the warmth soothed her complaining body. Soon she was completely dry, and she felt robotic hands grip her shoulders. The restraints were released, and Christina, having neither the strength nor the will even to attempt to hold herself up, hung helplessly between two of Pretorius' robots as they carried her away from the chamber.

_10:09 AM, present_

"Is that the Raptor?" Tanya gave the building a critical once-over. "Boring disguise."

Wildwing examined the building, and shook his head. "It's just a warehouse. Some power sources in there that don't make sense, though. Stay alert, team."

"The door's locked," Mallory observed when they reached the building.

"I got it!"

"Whoa, hold it Dive!" Wildwing made a grab for Nosedive's pucklauncher, stopping him before he could fire on the door. "Nosedive, we don't know who's in there or what's going on. Until we _do_, we should keep a low profile." Wildwing activated his mask and looked closer. "Wha... What the _feathers_?"

"What is it?" Duke was busy pulling his lock-pick set out of his pocket.

"I don't see Chris, but... There's a _duck_ in there." The whole team turned to stare at Wildwing, beaks agape. " About Nosedive's age... She's restrained – looks like someone's making a science project out of her." Wildwing turned to Duke, disbelief clear on his face even through the mask. "She... She looks like _you_."

Mallory shot an accusatory look at Duke. "There something you haven't told us, Duke?"

Duke took a step back and shook his head emphatically. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_! If I had a _kid_, I would _know_ about it! ...Uh, I-I think." He looked back toward the door, scratching his neck nervously. "And even if I _did_, what the heck would they be doin' here on Earth?"

Wildwing shook his head. "I don't know. But whoever she is, she needs our help. Get the door, Duke."

"Gladly." It took all of two seconds for Duke to have the door open, and they entered, weapons at the ready. It was a good thing they had their weapons out, considering how many robots appeared in their path – so much for keeping a low profile. The ducks dove for cover as lasers began to fly their way.

"Hey, do these robots seem kinda familiar to you guys?" Nosedive shouted between puck blasts.

"Yeah!" Mallory agreed as she blew the head clean off the nearest robot. "They look like the robots that attacked us when—"

"_Dr. Pretorius!_" Duke blurted as he swept the legs out from under one of the bots.

"Didn't he want to perform, y'know," Tanya put a puck through the torso of a robot, "_painful_ experiments on us?"

Grin sent a robot flying across the room and into a wall. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

"Destroy those ducks! They mustn't be allowed to interfere with my plans!"

Wildwing dispatched the last of the robots with a well-placed puck, then straightened up, stepping around the crate he'd been crouching behind.

"Uh, you were saying, Doctor?" He noted that the duck he'd seen before appeared to be only half-conscious: she blinked at them a few times, but mostly, her eyes remained closed. Her beak was badly bruised, and he wondered just what this madman had put her through.

The likeness to Duke, however, was absolutely unmistakable – with hair like that, there was no_ way _they weren't related. Apparently, Duke had come to this conclusion as well, because he couldn't seem to pull his attention away from her and back to the threat, however minor, of Dr. Pretorius.

Fortunately for him, it took the rest of the team only a few more seconds to have the 'good doctor' tied up – and knocked out. Nosedive rolled his eyes as he picked up the severed hand of one of the robots.

"Y'know, this guy has gotta be the _dumbest _evil genius I've ever _met_! I mean, you'd think he'd have improved his security since the last time we kicked his ta—" He dropped the hand, not even noticing when it landed heavily on the toe of his boot. "...ta-eee-ail...feath...ers..."

Mallory and Tanya rolled their eyes at each other – Nosedive had spotted the scantily clad female on the medical table, and the teenagers' brain had completely liquefied. Wildwing clapped a hand over his brother's eyes – Nosedive peered between his gloved fingers.

Duke, meanwhile, busied himself with removing the restraints that held the girl down. She moaned, eyelids fluttering as she tried to wake up.

"It's all right, kid... You're safe now. C'mon, wake up..." He patted the side of her face gently. "C'mon..." She moaned again, and her eyes finally opened, but just barely.

"..._Duke_...?"

Wildwing's jaw dropped – so, in fact, did everyone else's. They knew that voice. It was rough and pained and faint, but without a doubt, they _knew_ that voice.

"But... It _can't_ be... can it?" Mallory asked of no one in particular.

But the girl couldn't seem to summon the energy to speak again, and her eyes slid closed. This time, Duke couldn't wake her. Tanya was already at his side, activating her omnitool and examining the unconscious duck. She hissed to herself – the girl's dark feathers hid what Tanya's own pale feathers never could: massive bruising, covering her entire body, turning already gray skin to black. It wasn't even a matter of finding the bruises; it was more of a task to find places that _weren't_ bruised – because there weren't any. Tanya realized that the girl was slimmer than she appeared – her body was terribly swollen – and she was exactly the right size to be their missing teammate, feathers or no feathers, beak or no beak. Wildwing let go of his brother (who had finally realized the seriousness of the situation and snapped out of his mindless stare) and came closer.

"How is she? Is it really _her_?"

"Well, I don't know, I mean, her DNA checks out as duck, at least as far as the omnitool can tell. But Christina isn't here, so who else could it, y'know, be? But she's in bad shape, Wildwing. We need to get her to the Pond right away. I can run more, uh, tests there."

"Can you wake her up? Maybe she—" Tanya shook her head, cutting the Duke off in mid-sentence.

"She's in a lot of pain, Duke. It would be cruel to try to wake her now. And there's no telling how much, y'know, internal damage there is. I might be able to bring her out of it once I've got her sti-stabil, uh, settled, but I won't know until I get a better look at her."

"Then let's go. There's no one else here." Wildwing turned to head back out. Grin followed, carrying the near-lifeless duck – his large size allowed him to cradle her more carefully than anyone else could – and Tanya ran ahead of him to prepare an emergency medical bed in the Migrator. Duke hung back for a moment, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the large room.

There. A glint of gold, identical to the weapon that adorned his own shoulder. Chris had grown attached to her saber; it was one of her most prized possessions, and he knew she wouldn't want to lose it. He snatched it up, as well as the pile of her clothes that sat next to it – oddly, they were neatly folded. Duke wondered, not for the first time, at Pretorius' reasoning. And what kind of idiot human had let _him_ out of prison? He gripped the saber fiercely, resisting the temptation to make use of it.

He did, however, deliver a particularly violent kick to the doctor's side as he left, thoroughly satisfied at the sound of several of the unconscious human's ribs cracking.

No one said a word about it.


	4. Part IV

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Birds of a Feather' is © 2005-2007 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2007 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** R (V, L)

**Chapter Summary: **What's it like to wake up in the body of a different species?

_A Very Special Thanks to Dropzone, Pigeon and Audobon, for giving me back my muse!_

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**Birds of a Feather  
Part IV**

"How's she doin' Tanya?"

The blonde duck sighed, dropping tiredly into a chair. "She's stable, Duke. Everything's healing. You wouldn't believe the mess her body's in, though... I can't imagine how much pain she went through."

Wildwing found another chair and settled into it, as Duke turned a third chair around and straddled it, leaning on the back. Wildwing spoke first. "So we're sure it's her?"

Tanya shook her head. "I can't really be _sure_ of anything. There's not a t-tra-ter—_shred_ of human DNA in her, so I can't compare it to the samples of Chris's DNA that I already have. But I can't find any other causes for the injuries she's suffered. It's like her body literally tore itself apart and then put itself together again. Let's just say I'm ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure it's Christina." She looked at Duke. "And I _did_ compare her DNA to yours, Duke. Even if she wasn't hatched like a normal duckling, she is _definitely_ your daughter."

Wildwing furrowed his eyebrows. "But a person only gets _half_ their DNA from each parent, right? So where... Or should I say who, did the rest come from?"

Tanya shook her head again. "I don't know. As far as I can figure, there are only three female ducks Pretorius could _possibly_ have samples on—me, Mallory, and—_ugh_—Lucretia DeCoy."

Duke groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Oh, there's a nice pedigree for ya: a thief for a father and a traitor for a mother. Kid's got enough problems as it is."

"No, it's not her, it definitely isn't. It isn't Mallory or me, either. I don't know _who_ it is. That's the problem. I thought about the possibility that she could just be a sort of _clone_ of Duke, with the gender switches just thrown the other way, but that didn't work out, either. There's other DNA there. Half her chromosomes are from Duke, the other half are... I don't know."

"But you said she's entirely _duck_." Wildwing shook his head in confusion.

"She _is_. As near as I can figure, Pretorius just, y'know, manufactured the missing nucleotides himself."

"This is starting to sound like something out of _Jurassic Park_, Tanya."

"That's exactly what it is, Wildwing. Except I don't think he took the information from Earth ducks or anything like that. I think he just sorta, y'know, made it up as he went along."

Wildwing frowned. "That's not very comforting."

"Well, I'm not saying he just pulled the sequences out of thin air. He may be a lunatic, but he _is_ a genius. He _must_ have thought the sequences out, because so far I haven't found anything that seems really _wrong_. There are a couple of minor glitches that could pose a problem later on, but other than that, she's perfectly healthy. Um, y'know, aside from the obvious."

"So she's going to recover?"

Tanya nodded. "She should make a full recovery, Duke. She'll never be human again, but..."

Wildwing rubbed his forehead tiredly. "So there's no way to reverse it?"

"No. There's nothing to work with; her human DNA is _gone_. Even if I could use the samples I've got, and even if I managed to replicate the techniques Pretorius used to change her into a duck in the first place..." Tanya sighed. "The chances of her surviving... Well, she just _wouldn't_ survive it. The only reason she survived it this time is because ducks are, y'know, more resilient than humans. 'Downgrading' her, uh, back to human would be fatal. And without the technology Dragaunus gave Pretorius, I wouldn't even know where to begin, anyway."

"So in other words, 'no'." Duke frowned and stood up, walking over to where the topic of their conversation lay still and silent on a medi-bed. He took her hand gently in both of his. "Hang in there kid. We'll be here to help you. It'll be all right." Wildwing walked over and put a hand on Duke's shoulder.

"We're just going to have to give it time, Duke."

xxxx

Nosedive settled into a chair and flipped on the TV. It was going to be another long night. It had been over three weeks now, and Christina hadn't done much more than moan in her sleep. She'd opened her eyes once or twice, but Tanya said it was mostly reflex; she wasn't really awake or seeing anything.

It was just too weird to think about his best human friend now being a _duck_. Okay, so she made an admittedly good-looking duck, if you could get past the fact that she looked an awful lot like a younger, female version of Duke.

But Christina? A _duck_?

"Man, this story is gettin' weird even for _us_," he complained as he began flipping through the channels. He heard her moan but ignored it, assuming it was just another of many unconscious complaints.

"_T-Turn... th-that thin' d-do-un..._"

Nosedive leapt out of his chair as if his boxers had caught fire. He was at Christina's side in an instant, staring at her, beak hanging open. "Y-You're awake!!"

She flinched at his voice and struggled to open her eyes. He caught a brief glimpse of her brown eyes before her eyelids slammed shut again, Chris crying out in pain as if the very light had hurt her. Despite the fact that the majority of her injuries had healed by now, as well as the fact that she was still pumped full of a great deal of painkillers, she was writhing on the bed in apparent agony. Furrowing his eyebrows, he flipped his com open.

"Just take it easy, Chris, okay? I'm gonna get Tanya up here." He ended up setting his com to alert all channels, and in a moment Duke, Wildwing and Tanya tore into the room, clad in nightclothes, followed quickly by Mallory and Grin.

Tanya was instantly fussing over the younger hen. "Stay c-calm, Christina, you're okay." She rushed over to the control panel for Christina's many censors and IV's, upping the painkillers as much as she dared, and adding a trickle of sedative to help calm the girl. Wildwing took one of her hands and Duke took the other, and Chris clutched them desperately, trembling violently. Then, slowly, she started to relax. Tanya watched her closely, adjusting the IV levels to her satisfaction. Finally, Chris lay still, breathing heavily but with her pain levels apparently reduced to bearable levels.

"Chris?" Duke spoke softly. "Can you hear me?"

She tried again to open her eyes, and again, she slammed them shut, gasping in pain. Tanya shooed Nosedive out of her way and stood next to Wildwing, carefully adjusting the needles in the girl's arms.

"Somebody turn off the overhead lights," she ordered quietly. Mallory flipped the switch with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. Tanya continued. "And keep your voices down. Nosedive, could you turn that display around and push it closer? I need to monitor her brain activity. It's much, much higher than normal." He complied silently, and Tanya studied the display for a moment.

"Chris, listen to me. Are you listening?" The girl nodded slightly. Tanya continued. "I want you to open your eyes, okay?" Chris shook her head with a bit more energy.

"C-Can't..." She seemed to be having a little trouble maneuvering her new beak around words. Tanya frowned at her and repeated herself sternly.

"Most of your injuries are healed enough by now that a normal person would be starting to go about life again. Most of your _pain_ is because your, y'know, brain doesn't know what to do with all the new signals it's receiving, so it's perceiving _everything_ as pain." Chris furrowed her eyebrows slightly but didn't attempt to speak, so Tanya continued. "Your brain has to learn to d-decode all this new information. I've done a lot of studying on human biology, and we ducks tend to have much stronger senses than humans. Uh, n-no offense. Your eyesight, your hearing, even your, y'know, sense of touch is stronger now, and your brain is going to _have_ to learn to cope with it. But it can't _begin_ to learn if you don't open your eyes. We turned down the lights, so I promise it won't be as bad as it was the first time. Now _open_."

Finally, the girl's eyes fluttered open, and she blinked up at them. There was an innocent wonder overtaking her features as she looked from one face to another, as she slowly, achingly lifted the hand Duke held, bringing it before her face as he let go and turning it this way and that, as if she'd never seen a hand or feathers before.

"...Christina?" Duke finally ventured, and the curious gaze shifted toward him. "How do you feel?"

"...It..." She swallowed, then started over, her brows knitted in concentration as she struggled to speak through new vocal cords. Her words were awkward and broken, difficult to understand, but she persisted, determined to get her thoughts out. "It hurts... but..." Her gaze shifted again, to take in the view of the entire team where they crowded around her bed. "I-It's incredible," she breathed at last. "Everything's so... so clear... and the colors... I-I never..."

The others glanced back and forth at each other in confusion and concern, but Tanya merely smiled calmly. "Ducks have a higher v-visual, um, capacity than humans. Our sight is sharper: we can see clearly father than humans, and we can detect spectrums of light that most humans can't. It's sorta the same with your other senses, too."

Reassured, Wildwing turned his attention back to the former human. "Must be a lot to take in."

"It's like... s-seeing the... the w-world for... the f-first time..." she whispered, fighting the fatigue that was already overtaking her yet again, keeping her eyes open for as long as possible. But try as she might, she couldn't stay awake, and in moments she'd settled into a deep sleep once more.

As the team headed back to bed—a bit reluctantly—a few minutes later, and as Nosedive settled back into his chair to finish his watch, Tanya reassured them all.

"She should be j-just, y'know, fine now. She's out of the coma and she's surve—survu—made it through the worst part. She oughta recover completely, now. Just that, y'know, she'll have feathers and a beak, too."

Duke lingered by Christina's bed a bit longer than the others, stroking her hair in a decidedly fatherly fashion.

"We're glad to have ya back, kid," he whispered. "..._I'm_ glad to have you back. You have a family with us, kid, you know that.

"And now, you've got a father."


End file.

Mighty Ducks, Adventure